


Summer Rain

by Phoenixstrike



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Male Homosexuality, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixstrike/pseuds/Phoenixstrike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP/DM slash. Stupid rain. It always ruins everything. Harry's holiday is a washout and he only has his memories for entertainment. Ignores DH epilogue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Rain

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all identifiable characters and situations are created and owned by JK Rowling and various publishers including but not limited to Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. This fanfiction does not make any money and no copyright infringement is intended._

**Summer Rain**

Harry pulled back the tatty browning net curtains belonging to The World’s Crappiest Caravan and stared miserably out of the rain-splattered window at the eternal bleakness. He grudgingly admitted to himself that perhaps this week away hadn’t been one of his better ideas after all and he should have listened to Draco; he and Teddy had been here now for three days and the rain hadn’t let up once. Actually, Harry thought wryly, ‘rain’ would be an improvement on the current climatic situation. ‘Deluge’ was far more appropriate a term. Or perhaps a simple ‘completely fucking wet’ would do. Yes. That summed things up nicely. Harry rested his chin in his hands sulkily and scowled at the foul weather one final time before forcing a moronic-looking enthusiastic grin on his face and turning his attention back to his godson. 

Teddy was a handsome boy. Andromeda proudly told anyone who would listen how much he looked like his mother, but Harry could definitely see Remus in him too. He had the same expression of burning passion when he concentrated, the same half-crooked smile that his father had. Even in sleep the lad had the same restful appearance. Today the eight-year-old was sporting bright yellow hair- an attempt, he had informed Harry earlier that afternoon, to “bring the sunshine inside as we can’t go outside.” He was happily watching a DVD that Harry had put on for him. Staring at the telly continuously had not been what Harry had in mind when he offered to take his godson away for the week to experience a Muggle holiday. Not that Harry himself had much experience with holidays, given he was always left with Mrs Figg every time the Dursleys went away. But he was determined to give the boy every experience that Harry himself had been denied as a child.

Teddy was engrossed in his film and cheerful enough. Harry had contemplated simply packing up and going home, but he couldn’t face the taunts Draco would give him, along with the smug ‘I told you so’s. He’d not even brought a book with him to read. He was stuck in a shitty caravan, on a shitty caravan site, with shitty weather, in shitty, shitty, Devon with absolutely nothing to do. Stupid rain. It always ruined everything. Just like the time he and Draco returned from their honeymoon. It was still the most mortifying moment of his entire life, and it was all the rain’s fault. Even now, two summers later, Harry still couldn’t laugh about it… not really.  
****

“Fucking rain,” Harry said angrily, trying to shield himself unsuccessfully from the falling drops as he struggled up the sodden drive as quickly as he could, both arms laden with suitcases of which only one small one was his. “Don’t you worry, Draco, I’ve got the luggage. You concentrate on carrying in that one obviously heavy bottle of whiskey you picked up at Duty Free.” He made an exasperated noise which Harry might admit was a tad overdramatic. “We should have stayed in Italy. We’ve only been back in the country an hour and I’m soaked to the skin already.”

“Well then, you need to get out of these wet clothes, don’t you?” said the blond with a lascivious glint in his eyes, as they gazed wantonly over the now transparent shirt Harry was wearing, two pebbled nipples protruding from the material . Draco set the whiskey down carefully on the floor and finally took the suitcases off his new husband before placing them gently in the hall of their cottage. “Come here.” Draco tilted Harry’s face towards his own and crushed his lips down onto the darker man’s, immediately noticing a hitch in Harry’s breath as he did so. Harry managed to wriggle free of his wet jacket as Draco started on the buttons to his shirt, neither one of them breaking the kiss. They only just remembered to close their front door before Harry was walking his lover backwards until the stairs reached Draco’s calves and the pair sank down onto them, just as Draco unfastened the last of the buttons and removed Harry’s shirt, tossing it across the hallway.

It was perfectly clear that the bottom of their staircase was as far as they were going to make it. Bed just seemed like a mountain climb away up an Everest of stairs at this moment for the randy newlyweds. Harry was already unfastening the buckle on Draco’s jeans, Draco’s erection making it presence known to the brunet under the heel of Harry’s hand. Finally unbuckled, Draco lifted his hips whilst Harry hungrily dragged trousers and boxers down together in one lust-driven motion, where they pooled around his husband’s ankles. Once Draco’s beautiful member was exposed Harry made short work of his own trousers whilst Draco removed his t shirt.

Harry began to kiss and suck at Draco’s neck. He began to move his kisses lower, biting a nipple and causing Draco to moan above him and run his fingers through Harry’s rain-dampened hair.

“Harry, please, too much, I need to come,” Draco gasped from above. Harry offered the blond a smirk before continuing his tantalising trail of kisses down Draco’s torso, pausing at his navel, before, _finally_ , licking his erection base to tip, before taking it fully into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact.

As Draco bucked instinctively into the touch, Harry’s hand snaked around to his front and he began to fist his own shaft furiously, desperate for release.

Draco’s breathing became uneven and his member began to twitch in Harry’s mouth. He was so close himself as he continued to apply pressure. Almost there, just a few more seconds….

“Hermione, shall I put some of these balloons up in the hallway too? I mean, will they… OH SWEET FUCKING HELL!”

Harry had immediately dropped his own erection and released Draco from his mouth the second he had heard Ron’s voice, but unfortunately that had been at the exact same moment Draco began his orgasm. He was kneeling in front of his husband, whilst Draco helplessly ejaculated onto his own stomach and tried to cover himself up all at once, Harry’s own hard member jutting proudly out of cast-aside boxers, all the time when his best friend gaped on in disbelief. Ron finally realised what he was staring at and screwed his eyes tight, his blush a deep shade of crimson on his usually pale skin.

“Harry! Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry! Fuck, we thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow! We’re getting ready for a surprise welcome home party, see?” And with that Ron held up a thick pink sausage balloon in shaky hands which he promptly dropped. The wretched thing hadn’t yet been tied up so it made an obscene noise as it deflated, taking flight round the hall and landing on Harry’s naked shoulder.

“A long pink shaft deflating rapidly thanks to you. How metaphorical,” Harry said angrily, shaking off the now flaccid balloon and tucking his own now thankfully softened member back into his clothes, as Draco did the same. “Again, explain to me what you are doing here in our house right now if you thought we were away till tomorrow?”

“Hermione wanted it all done the day before you got back so it wouldn’t be a rush tomorrow! Why are you home a day early, mate?”

“We’re not! I lied about the day we were returning!” Harry was still scarlet and now it wasn’t just from embarrassment. He had wanted to be alone with his husband on their first night at home as a married couple and his redheaded friend had ruined it all. He felt like punching Ron at that moment.

“Why did you lie?” Ron’s voice sounded indignant which shifted Harry’s anger up another notch from the sheer audacity of it.

“Because I knew you and Hermione were going to bloody well do something like this the minute we got back! And maybe, just maybe, I wanted him to myself the first night of our married life in our own house!”

It had gone from bad to worse in that moment. Hermione, followed by a smirking Ginny, had trailed the commotion in the hallway, and opened her mouth as if to protest before a furious Draco had all but physically thrown them out of their home into the soggy August afternoon and locked the door with a strong Locking Charm.

“Fucking rain!” said Harry again. “If I hadn’t have got so wet coming up the sodding drive then you wouldn’t have stripped me the second we walked through the door, and…. Gah, I’m going for a bath.” And he threw his arms up in the air in a fit of frustration, yanked the bottle of whiskey off the floor and stormed out of the room with it.

****

Okay, maybe Harry _could_ smile about that now. A little bit. Particularly when he remembered the revenge he and Draco had got on his friends. Anonymous owl-ordering was a wonderful thing; it had taken weeks and several strong cleaning charms before Hermione had managed to remove the stench of dragon dung fully from her upholstery.

Teddy’s film finished and he began complaining loudly about being hungry. As Harry walked into the kitchen area to make lunch he noticed there was a leak in the roof, and water had dripped dangerously into the plugged-in toaster. It didn’t matter that he managed to repair it with his wand in seconds; Harry was fed up. It was July, the weather shouldn’t be like this. Of course, Harry thought with a smile, it wouldn’t be the first time a July had been a washout. His twenty-first birthday had been a rather soggy affair. Although, when he looked back on that memory, from five years ago, his tummy still flipped with butterflies.

****

“Who brings a hamster with them to a birthday party anyway?” said Draco through gritted teeth, as he and Harry searched the garden, wand tips alight, for Dipsy, Teddy’s escapologist pet.

“A three-year-old does,” Harry replied impatiently. “Now let’s find the bloody thing and get back inside. I don’t like the look of those clouds.” The sky was unusually dark for early evening in summer; there were thick black clouds rolling in and the earlier warm sunshine had completely disappeared. It was obviously going to tip down at any moment.

 _“Accio hamster,”_ Draco tried for the third time, a hint of urgency to his voice now. Still no Dipsy appeared. Teddy’s wails and sobs, easily audible over Andromeda’s soothing words, were becoming louder and louder from inside Grimmauld Place. Harry swore under his breath and got onto his knees to look under the flowers in the flower beds.

“This isn’t how I imagined the eve of my twenty-first,” Harry grumbled, as he stood back up, brushing the dirt off the knees of his jeans. “When I pictured the day, I imagined I’d have a lot more alcohol in me by now.”

Draco snorted. “All in good time, Potter. Let’s just find this critter and get inside, then Aunt Andromeda and Teddy will go home and we can start the party properly.”

“There!” Harry trained his wand on the movement he’d seen out of the corner of his eye, but it turned out to just be a sparrow hopping across the lawn. “Sorry. False alarm. Bugger this, can’t we just Transfigure him another hamster out of a leaf or something?”

“Giving up and taking the easy option? How Slytherin of you, Potter. Didn’t know you had it in you,” the blond smirked. “We’ll call that plan B. Let’s give this ten minutes more first.”

“Fuck. It’s started spitting,” Harry said, holding out his hand to catch the first few wispy drops of rainfall.

The two young men continued to search in near silence for another few minutes, as the rain gradually became heavier. When Harry next looked up at Draco he noticed the Slytherin looked nervous. He gave him an inquisitive stare.

“I realised I never thanked you properly. For when… when you saved my life, that night in the Room of Requirement. I know you know I’m grateful, and we’ve become friends and all that, but I owe you a formal thank you. For believing I was worth saving.”

“I may have thought you were a conceited twat but I never wanted you dead,” Harry replied. Draco gave him a look that Harry couldn’t read, then took a few steps closer. They were perhaps a foot apart.

“And what do you think of me now?” Draco asked quietly, before reaching out and, _fuck, is Draco Malfoy holding my hand?_

“Er…” Harry said stupidly, aware that his heartbeat had sped up, and he could feel the beginning of a blush on his cheeks. He couldn’t take his eyes off Draco’s face. Draco reached up with his free hand and stroked his thumb down the side of Harry’s cheek, eliciting a shiver from the darker man.

To this day Harry still doesn’t know who kissed who. All he knew is one minute he was standing in the garden with Draco almost uncomfortably close, staring into molten-silver eyes, the next his lips were locked in a fiery embrace with Draco’s, Dipsy the hamster all but forgotten.

At that moment the heavens opened, and Harry could hear the distant rumble of thunder. Draco broke the kiss. Harry noticed he was breathing erratically.

“Merlin, I’ve wanted to do that to you for so long,” he whispered shakily, his hands caressing Harry’s sides as he rested his forehead on Harry’s. Draco leant in to kiss him once more but a flash of lightning grabbed his attention and stopped him. “We should go inside. We’re getting drenched out here,” he said, looking up to the blackened sky.

“I don’t care,” Harry replied, and pulled the blond’s head back towards him and kissing him deeply.

Harry couldn’t remember ever being kissed like this. His kisses with Cho had never excited him, and those he’d shared with Ginny had been nice enough, but nothing, _nothing,_ ever came close to this. The feel of Draco pressed against him, the deep, masculine groans low in his throat shooting straight to Harry’s groin. Draco’s scent: an earthy, delicious spice which Harry thought could be cinnamon. Rain-sodden hair for Harry to secure his fingers in. Strong, muscular arms holding him securely and possessively. He moaned into Draco’s parted mouth and deepened the kiss, tongues intertwining, as the rain pelted them and both men became soaked to the skin. They may have stood there minutes or hours, Harry didn’t know, and nor did he care. All he knew was that Draco was making him feel completely wonderful, and Harry wondered for how long he’d subconsciously longed for the blond to kiss him. He was beginning to become almost painfully hard, and could feel Draco in a similar condition, pushed against his right hip.

A sudden growl followed by a terrified squeak behind them jolted them apart and they both turned towards the noise, pointing their wands at the figures. A quick _Lumos,_ and what the light revealed made Harry’s heart sink. 

“Crookshanks! No! Bad Crookshanks!” 

But it was too late. Poor Dipsy the hamster had sadly met his demise, caught by Hermione’s fluffy feline, and was hanging limply in the half-Kneazle’s jaws.

“Fuck,” said Draco. “Time for plan B then. I’ll go and find that leaf.”

****

The fourth day of the holiday offered a momentary break from the downpour, although there was still no sign of any sunshine. Harry downgraded the conditions to ‘spitting’ and he and Teddy managed to have an entertaining day at Torquay beach. Teddy was like a kid in a sweet shop when Harry introduced him to the penny arcades, and Harry had a hard time pulling the boy away from them. They ate fish and chips on the quay, and Harry even forgot momentarily to be gloomy.

That night he was just drifting off, wishing Draco was here with him as he quite fancied a shag, when:

_Patter Patter Patter Patter Patter…_

“Oh, wonderful. It’s raining again,” Harry said aloud to the empty darkness, as the downpour continued to strike the caravan’s fragile roof, each one sounding like an Apparition crack as the cheap aluminium roof of the caravan accented the noise of each drop. He groaned, got out of bed, and crossed the tiny corridor to Teddy’s room and cast a Silencing Charm on it before returning to his own and doing the same.

Back in his bed, with the rain silenced, Harry eventually managed to sleep, duvet pulled right up to his chin on this exceptionally chilly night for late July. It was of Draco that dreamt.

****

The fifth day was like the previous; it was damp but not torrential and Harry and Teddy enjoyed exploring the Jurassic coastline, even if the spattering rain did ruin their cliff top picnic. The sixth and final day was, however, another washout. Harry was beginning to think he’d managed to arrange the perfect holiday for an agoraphobic; in the entire week they’d only ventured out of their caravan twice.

Harry put on the TV for Teddy whilst he went for a shower, and returned to find the eight-year-old happily watching a documentary on the Crime and Investigation channel about a man in America who suffered with paranoid schizophrenia and had murdered his parents in their sleep. The programme was showing graphic crime scene images and Teddy was glued to the screen, apparently transfixed. Horrified, Harry grabbed the remote and turned the television off. Teddy turned round sharply and glared at his godfather.

“I was watching that!” he said angrily.

“I’m sure your grandmother wouldn’t want you watching things like that,” Harry replied, wondering why such programmes were shown at seven in the evening. Teddy looked like he was about to argue back before deciding against it and storming off.

“This holiday has been really crap!” he shouted, and slammed the door to his room. Harry sighed and put his head in his hands, not even bothering to chastise the boy for his language; after all, Teddy was completely right.

Everything _was_ crap in the rain. Well, apart from his first kiss with Draco. That had been rather spectacular actually. The memory of that, combined with complete abstinence for a week was having a rather unwanted effect on Harry. He gently palmed his groin through his trousers and reminded himself that, this time tomorrow, he’d be back home and he could shag his husband’s brains out until his heart (and dick) was content. He used his wand to quickly pack all his belongings from the caravan, not caring if he was cheating and it didn’t count as part of a Muggle experience, and turned in for an early night, determined not to think about Draco, or sex, or sex with Draco. But it wasn’t working; sex was now fully on his brain and he was as hard as the stick of Torquay rock he’d picked up in a gift shop for Ron. As much as Harry tried to ignore it, his erection wouldn’t subside and Harry knew he was going to have to take care of it manually. He crept out of bed, checked on Teddy to make sure he was asleep, then returned to his room, put up a strong Silencing Charm and shrugged out of his pyjama bottoms.

The feel of his hand on his stiff shaft after seven days of nothing was incredible. He closed his eyes and chose his Wank Fantasy for the night: when he and Draco had sex for the first time.

****

Harry dashed out of the Burrow, ignoring the drizzle that had begun to fall, hoping that Draco was still on the grounds and hadn’t Disapparated away. He searched through the early evening mist until he spotted a familiar platinum-blond head, highlighted against the soft greens and earthy browns of the Weasleys’ orchard. He walked slowly towards him, and gave a small cough to announce his approach.

“You sounded like Umbridge then,” Draco said, not turning around to look at his boyfriend. Instead he picked an apple off the floor and tossed it into the air, let it fall to the ground, then repeated the manoeuvre.

“Gravity has already been discovered you know,” Harry said with a wry grin on his face. Draco turned to face him, finally, but had a blank expression. “You know? Gravity, Newton, falling apples?” Draco’s eyebrows furrowed but he still didn’t say anything. Harry gave up. “I guess not then.”

He sat down next to Draco, and snatched the apple out of the air next time it made a descent. “Seeker’s reflexes. They never leave you,” he said. A small smile tugged at the corners of Draco’s mouth as Harry discarded the now bruised fruit.

A drop of moisture fell through the canopy of trees and landed on Harry’s glasses as the drizzle became heavier. He removed them, wiped them then cast an Impervius Charm on them before returning them to his face. He reached out and took Draco’s left hand in both of his and held tightly. He looked at Draco’s face and noticed there was a slight redness to his eyes. Harry’s heart sank.

“Molly didn’t mean it you know. And Ron’s giving her a piece of his mind right now. I just think she always thought Ginny and I were going to get back together after the war. She’s not accepted that Ginny is blissfully happy with that Chaser bloke from the Magpies and I’m in love with you.”

Draco’s head snapped round. “L-love?” The grip on Harry’s hand tightened.

“Yes, you stupid git. I love you.” And he leant forwards and kissed Draco deeply. The pair broke apart.

“Come back inside,” Harry said, and stood up, offering a hand to Draco as he did so. Draco shook his head and stubbornly remained seated on the damp mossy ground.

“And return to that bloody flashmob?” Harry raised an eyebrow and gave an amused expression at this Muggle term. “I, er, read that newspaper you left lying around. Something about some Muggle politician a bunch of people who thought he should resign protesting outside Parliament. They mentioned the word. Anyway, I half expected the Weasleys to collect their pitchforks and torches and come witch hunting, like in those stories Binns told us about. Salem I think it was. As ironic as that would be. They don’t want me there, they made it perfectly clear. And with good reason, I really hurt that family.”

“I want you there. And they’ll just have to get used to that,” Harry replied, before leaning forwards and once more capturing Draco’s mouth with his.

The kiss was fiery, and passionate, and sent all Harry’s sensitive nerve endings on fire, giving him the sensation of a series of electrical shocks along his spine. He sighed and pressed himself closer to the man he loved, as Draco deepened the kiss.

“Draco,” he whispered, “Please, I want you.” Draco’s eyes widened.

“Here? In the rain? In Molly Fucking Weasley’s orchard, when the old hag has just yelled at me?”

Harry could only nod, and push is erection against the blond’s hip. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed, his resolve crumbling. Then he flipped Harry onto his back, his dexterous fingers already at Harry’s fly.

It didn’t take long until both had shed their bottom half of clothing. Draco paused only to cast a privacy ward around the pair, should anyone come looking for them, before returning his full attention to Harry, worshiping the man’s body. Harry’s t shirt was pushed up to his neck and Draco was licking every area of exposed skin that he could.

“I’m going to make you feel fantastic,” he told Harry huskily, as he dipped his tongue into Harry’s belly button. Harry could only offer a whimper and a frantic nod in reply, urging the bond even further, desperate now for contact.

When Draco first licked Harry’s erection, base to tip, Harry made a very bizarre and embarrassing noise that Draco politely chose to ignore. When he took the head into his mouth Harry nearly lost it. He tried to thrust into the blond’s mouth before a strong arm pinned him back down onto the earth. The moist, and oh so talented tongue swirled round the sensitive glans of Harry’s length, sending wave upon wave of intense pleasure surging though Harry, bringing him dangerously close after only a minute. He pulled at Draco’s hair in warning, who released him from his mouth, which promptly began exploring other areas of Harry until-

_Oh my fucking god!_

Well, Harry had certainly never had a tongue ‘there’ before! And very few things had ever come close to feeling as magnificent. He and Draco had played around a bit, experimenting with fingers, but never a mouth, and at this moment Harry couldn’t possibly imagine why not. And then when Draco’s tongue breached him…

There was moaning, and heavy breathing, and panting, and sweating, which instantly cooled in the late summer breeze, causing Harry’s skin to erupt in goose pimples. He suddenly couldn’t stand another minute without Draco in him.

“Draco,” he panted breathlessly, “please…”

Draco reached over to his discarded trousers and retrieved his wand, performing a handy little charm which lubricated his own erection, before coming to Harry so they were once more face to face.

“Are you sure?” he asked Harry once more. Harry’s only reply was to lift his hips up into Draco’s groin. Draco leant forwards to kiss Harry once more, and Harry felt the head of Draco’s erection begin to breach him.

Harry had thought this would hurt. He had been prepared for pain but, as Draco slowly eased in, he was surprised to feel little more than discomfort. “Move,” he commanded his lover, and Draco began to thrust, gently pulling out before pushing back in, the stroke deliciously hitting Harry’s prostate causing him to take a sharp intake of breath, which Draco misunderstood as pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively.

“Fucking amazing and don’t fucking stop,” Harry replied, grabbing Draco’s buttocks and drawing him into his body further. Draco took the hint and began moving again, less gentle and more urgent than before, hitting that sweet spot expertly every time inside Harry.

Harry was so close, so unbelievably fucking close. Draco reached round and grabbed Harry’s neglected member, stroking it in time with his thrusts. It was all it took; with a final cry, Harry shuddered, and came, an orgasm so intense it obscured his vision and seemed to last for hours. His vision returned just in time to witness Draco’s thrust pattern falter before the blond stiffened, a beautiful pink flooding his cheeks as he reached his own climax.

“Oh my bloody god,” Harry panted, as Draco carefully withdrew from his boyfriend, before slumping bonelessly onto the rain-dampened ground next to him. “That was, I mean it was so, oh Merlin.”

“I was awesome, wasn’t I?” Draco replied, a smirk on his kissed-swollen lips. He rolled onto his side and threw an arm around Harry and nestled into the crook of his arm, who held him protectively. The pair lay together, shivering slightly, for many minutes, trying to get their breaths back.

“Oh look!” Harry said, looking at the sky. “A rainbow!”

A beautifully vivid rainbow was arching across the entire sky, as newly-broken sunlight shone through the rain, on this wet August evening. Draco pulled Harry’s attention away from the sky and proceeded to kiss him once again.

“I love you too,” he said, when the kiss ended. The pair returned their attention to the sky, fingers intertwined, and stared at the rainbow until it faded away and the light began to fail…

Present-day Harry stifled a cry as he came into his hand. A thought came to him as he retrieved his wand to clean up. _Perhaps the rain isn’t so bad after all._

****

“And have you thanked Harry?” Andromeda was standing in her doorway as Teddy ran up to hug her, leaving Harry with the luggage. The boy promptly thanked his godfather before dashing inside, not wanting to get any more wet than he already was. Harry said his goodbyes to Mrs Tonks before turning on the spot and Disapparating home.

Draco was sitting in an armchair reading a book on Potions theory when Harry arrived home. He looked up and beamed at the darker man as he walked into the sitting room, before standing. Harry practically flew into his arms.

“Good time?” Draco asked dryly.

“No. Lousy,” Harry replied, hugging his husband tight. “I missed you so much.”

“It was a shame about the weather,” Draco continued. Both men turned to look out of the large bay window which overlooked their garden. Once again it was throwing it down. A mischievous smirk crossed Harry’s face.

“It’s not so bad,” he grinned and, pulling Draco by his tie, he coaxed him to the French doors, flung them open and dragged his husband into the summer rain.


End file.
